Love and the Age of the Supervillain
by The Behemoth
Summary: In 1980, Gru never knew that going to an academy for villains would change his life forever. Part 3: Gru gets groovy in a disco, receives some awkward attention from a professor, and gets high as a kiiite.
1. In the Beginning There Was Gru

**Author's Note: **Oh dear. I've decided to create a fairly extensive fanfic when I, yet again, have some major event about to take place in my life. I'm going off to Italy in a few weeks and finishing this puts me on a tight writing schedule. SO I am going to try my freaking best to finish this thing before I leave without making it be too contrived. The idea's been swimming in my head for a long time, so it has to come out. I really hope to the writing gods that I don't have to abandon this, so I give you this warning now.

Now that THAT'S out of the way, I hope you enjoy what I do post! I love Gru and have always wondered about his past. It's a lot of fun trying to figure out what a villain school would be like. ALSO there WILL be romance between Gru and an original character of mine. I hope you will trust me to do justice to Gru's character and make his romance as hilarious yet genuine as I possibly can. I have no intention of Mary Sues being in my story.

Also, I decided to avoid phonetically portraying Gru's accent (most of the time) because I think it gets annoying after a while. It's much less annoying when you imagine his accent yourself. :}

**Rating: **Rated T for violence and adult themes, lol. It may shift to M if I feel adventurous enough.

**Summary: **In 1980, Gru never knew that going to an academy for villains would change his life forever.

**Disclaimer: **Despicable Me belongs to Illumination Entertainment/Universal Studios.

* * *

**Love and the Age of the Supervillain**

**Part One**:

In the Beginning There Was Gru

_~ Fall 1980 ~_

"Hey, mom! I got accepted to the Academy!"

"Eh, college. What, you want to have someone babysit you for four more years?"

At nineteen years old, Gru was used to his mother's criticism. Through passive-aggression, subtle jokes, and sometimes outright disapproval, she successfully whittled away at his self-esteem since he was a toddler. He was sure there was a small part of his brain that repressed the anger he felt toward his mother, most likely lodged in between "sexual repression from ages 12 to 15" and "the day Dad died and Mom made fun of me for crying." So instead of being upset over her disinterest, he took it in stride.

"The Academy of Villainy and other Diabolical Arts is the highest ranking villain school in the world. Many cold-hearted and brilliant men have come from this institution!" Gru shook his fist in the air for emphasis.

His mother shrugged and went back to knitting. "How much money am I going to have to take from my savings?"

"Mom, I got a scholarship, remember? Students pay the school back by stealing during their stay there."

"Oh," she said without breaking her concentration from her knitted scarf. If there was one thing Gru admired about his mother, it was her nonchalance about his recent criminal activity.

Sure, he'd been a _good_ boy for a long time…He grew up in a small town in Poland with his mother and father, his mother a dutiful housewife and his father's occupation a mystery to him. All Gru could remember as a child was that his father became all shifty-eyed when the phrase "anti-communist" was ever uttered in their home. One day one of his father's "co-workers" was shot by a Soviet soldier. It was then their family moved to America.

They moved into a suburban neighborhood with picket fences, sprawling green lawns, and other white bread elements of the perfect 1960s American family. At school kids made fun of Gru's thick accent, but one thing he loved distracted him from all teasing: the moon. When he learned about NASA, a whole new world opened up to him. He built toy rockets, read books about space travel, and counted down the days until the first humans were sent to the moon.

After watching the 1969 landing, the elusive job title of "astronaut" haunted his dreams to the point he would sometimes get sick after waking up. Deep in his heart he knew he would never make it there, and the thought crushed his heart beyond all belief. Once his mother was aware that Gru's dream wasn't some simple flight of fancy, she told him, "Maybe if you get smart enough, you can work at NASA."

Gru was already smart, but after that day he made an effort to become brilliant. It proved to be simple for him, and he easily received honors in math and science in high school. One day after talking to one of his teachers, he ran home to tell his mother the good news.

"_Hey, mom! My physics teacher said he'd write a recommendation for me to go to an engineering school!"_

"_Eh. No one's going to want a Soviet immigrant building rockets in this decade."_

The dream died a silent death.

That was months ago he found out about his college acceptance. Today, the big moment had finally come: he would fly away from his mother and not have to see her for a whole three and a half months. And more importantly, he would become so villainous and cunning that she would never doubt him ever again.

"The bus from the airport is coming in ten minutes," he said while placing two fat suitcases by the front door. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his mother fussing over something in the kitchen.

"Give me a few more minutes."

He shrugged and walked to the hallway mirror. Nervous, he checked his image for the umpteenth time since he got dressed. His brown hair was a fairly non-descript 70s hairstyle—volume at the top with short sideburns. He could pass as David Cassidy's evil and slightly less attractive brother. Which is saying a lot.

He smoothed the front of his fitted, black sweater that hugged his barreled chest. Legs incredibly slim, he was glad he carried himself with poise to compensate for whatever awkwardness that came from his recent growth spurt. His father was a larger and more intimidating man. In a few years he figured he'd look the same.

He clicked his tongue and shot guns at his reflection. "Lookin' good."

"Ha!" He looked over his shoulder to see his mother. Folded in her tiny arms was a long strip of striped fabric.

"What is _that?_"

"This used to belong to your father. Before he died, he said to me, _Give this to my son when he becomes a man_."

Tears welled up in Gru's eyes. "Oh, mom…" He leaned in for a hug, but she kept him away with a firm push.

"_Technically_, this is a replica of your father's scarf. I say to myself, eh, maybe my son will grow up while he is away. Maybe not. Who knows? So instead of giving you the real thing, I made this one for you. It should keep you warm until you become a real man."

Gru immediately frowned. "Oh. _Thanks_."

He hesitated before leaning down. She wrapped the scarf around his neck and was bent on tightening it.

"I can't breathe—"

"Oh, your father was a great man. He didn't have to go to college to be successful. Did you know he owned nearly twelve—"

"MOM!" Gru pulled away and loosened the scarf. "I have to go now. Okay?"

She looked up at Gru and smiled slightly. Vulnerable again, Gru smiled back, expecting a hug.

They stared at each other for a few moments, the silence in the air dead and heavy.

"I don't want you bringing back some_ girl_ knocked up, okay?"

"Oy, mom." He turned away and hauled his suitcases out the door. "Goodbye!"

* * *

Gru knew only two things about The Academy of Villainy and other Diabolical Arts:

#1: In 1980 they held the position as the most prestigious villain college in the United States, if not the world. The information pamphlet he'd requested in the mail cited that 20% of the students were transfers from Ivy League institutions that had "wanted to cut to the chase and commit crimes already."

#2: It was held in a secret location and required a secret means of getting there.

He was very worried about #2.

Gru made it through airport check-in and security easily. He found his gate number and headed toward the boarding platform, only to be stopped by a group of hippies in bed sheets.

"_Hare Krishna_, brother!" A thin man with Jesus-hair ran up to Gru and gave him a huge hug. Gru shuttered and pushed the man off of him.

"Do not ever touch my body…ever again."

"Don't you want to _share the love, man_?" A younger hippie walked up to Gru and banged a tambourine in his face. She pushed a large coffee cup up against Gru's hands and shook it for effect: several coins rattled inside of it.

"Please go away," Gru said curtly while raising a hand.

"If you _donate_, the universe will _reciprocate_, man," the Jesus hippie said slowly. "It's all about being at one with yourself and that which _isn't yourself_. You get what I'm gettin' at?"

"That is all very interesting and, ah, _groovy_," Gru said with contempt, "but I've really got to catch a flight." He knocked the hippies over trying to break through the circle they'd formed around him. He walked up to the entry ramp, gave his ticket to the attendant, and exhaled in relief.

Once on the plane, Gru pulled out the letter the Academy sent him several months ago. He ran a thumb across the golden, stamped insignia of the college at the top of the letter and smirked.

_Dear Mr. Gru,_

_We are incredibly happy to inform you of your acceptance to The Academy of Villainy and other Diabolical Arts. Based on your grades, essay, and the mandatory psychological assessment test you submitted, we found you to be a perfect candidate as a future no-good, villainous, plotting, and general menace to society. We receive thousands of applicants yearly, making you part of the 10% of students we admit every fall semester. Please take a moment to congratulate yourself. You will be surrounded with the brightest and worst young people in society today._

_Are you done patting yourself on the back? Good. Because from this moment on, you must keep your girlish man-squeals to yourself. You agreed to the pact our institution makes all students sign when applying: you are to be loyal to our school and keep confidential whatever information that is given to you. Our school does intensive background checks on all admitted students, so we likewise keep all records of you confidential from the public._

_Due to the nature of our scholastic goals, we are not friendly with local police enforcement or government security at large. More details will be given if you arrive on campus safely. Attached are instructions as to what city you should fly into, including what airline you should use. As soon as you land, hail only the black cabs from the airport and request to go to "Fatum City."_

_Good luck! Do not make the foolish decision of rejecting your acceptance._

_Dean Nero Phillips_

Gru did extensive research on "Fatum City." He failed to find anything on what he later figured to be the codename for a location hidden away from the US government.

Putting the letter away, he pulled out a newspaper to busy himself with during the three-hour flight. He smiled at the headline. _MASKED CRIMINAL DR. GERO STRIKES AGAIN._

Only a few minutes into his reading, a flight attendant pushed a cart to Gru's side. He looked up at her and blushed at how attractive she was.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?"

"Um, coffee would be nice," Gru squeaked. He watched her pour him hot coffee and mix in four packets of creamer at his request. He mumbled something as she handed the cup to him, his eyes downcast. She smiled before pushing the cart away toward the cockpit. He looked shyly over the rim of his coffee at the attendant's, um, assets as she walked away.

An old man leaned into Gru's aisle. "Excuse me young man, but is that today's paper?"

Gru looked over the stranger: red, round cheeks, a cheerful curly moustache, and a bowler hat placed delightfully askew on his head.

Gru frowned. "It is."

"May I take a gander at that?" The man tore the paper from Gru's hand.

"HEY!"

"My, my, these new villains sure are flashy, aren't they?" The man dropped down into the seat next to Gru, making himself more comfortable by taking a quick sip from Gru's coffee. "Mmm, I see you like a lot of cream."

"Excuse you, old man." Gru curtly pulled the paper and coffee away from the man and buried his face in the comics section.

"Why don't you tell me where you're off to?" The man reached his hand inside his coat and pulled out a pipe. "Just have to take a quick smoke."

"I don't think you're allowed to smoke on the plane."

"Anyway, what are you doing traveling today? Vacation? Work? Escape?"

Gru raised a brow at the last word. "None of those. I'm going to school. V_ee_-llain school."

"Mmm. You don't look like a villain to me." The man took a deep puff from his pipe and grinned. "Don't look like you could steal candy from a baby."

"You don't know anything about me." And with that, Gru turned away to stare out the window.

"I know you're a kid, and right now you're not cut out to be half the villain _this _guy is." With emphasis the old man tapped the image on the front page of the newspaper with the tip of his pipe. "He's cunning, quick, and best of all, despicable. What can you do?"

"I robbed a gas station this summer." Gru felt strange revealing the crime aloud, more so out of shame than fear of punishment by some authority. He'd had a gun and the job took less than ten minutes.

The old man burst into a fit of cute old-person giggles. "Ohhoho….wow. Are you serious?"

"Uh, _yeah_."

He wiped the corners of his eyes and grasped Gru's shoulder. "See that lady over there with the pearl necklace?" The old man tilted his head across the aisle. Across from them sat a sleeping woman. "I want you to steal it."

"What? _Why_?"

"You morally opposed to it or something?" The old man scoffed.

"Of _course_ not. It's just—I'm on an airplane with every seat filled. How can I steal something with everyone looking at me? It would be stupid to even try."

"With an attitude like _that_," the old man said tapping Gru's nose with the end of his pipe, "you'll never graduate from that old villain school."

Not enthralled with the idea of _two_ people in his life discouraging him, Gru groaned and put the coffee and newspaper on the floor. "Excuse me," he hissed, before making his way to the bathroom.

He awkwardly stood in the tiny room and made a show out of flushing and washing his hands. Five minutes passed and he went back into the plane's cabin. He whistled as he casually walked behind the woman. He stopped mid-step, thrust his arm forward, and tried to pry the trinket off her neck without disturbing her sleep.

Her eyes popped wide open and she looked up at Gru. "Wha…who are you?"

"Um-!" He pulled his hand away. "I was just, ah—"

"Were you trying to get _fresh_ with me, young man?"

"Of course not, I would never—"

"Hey! He was trying to steal your necklace!" yelled a man across the plane.

"Whoa!" Gru held up both hands. "No one was trying to steal anything. I was just returning back to my seat, yeah?" Gru slid back into his window seat, seething.

"You're a fool," the old man said, once again sipping on Gru's coffee until he emptied the cup.

"I almost got caught because of you!"

"Listen, kid. To be a real villain you have to have confidence in whatever you do. Did you know that you can almost get away doing anything without ever being noticed? That you can just walk into some places and take what you want without batting an eye?"

Gru shook his head. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Just watch." The old man leaned over to the offended woman and grabbed her hand. "Forgive my grandson. He's just a bit off."

"Oh," she said, relaxing her face. Gru looked horribly insulted, but the old man ignored him.

"That is a beautiful necklace you've got." The man rolled a bead between his aged fingers, eyes never breaking from the woman's. "Looks absolutely stunning on you." With a free hand he casually took a puff from his pipe without breaking face.

"I got it from my grandmother…" The woman went on to tell a long story about the origin of the necklace, obviously of great importance in her family, and the old man simply sat petting the pearls until they suddenly found themselves detached from her neck. She rattled on, the old man casually petting her neck and snaking the necklace down the sleeve of his jacket. She finally ended the story, both of them laughing, and the old man quietly returning to his seat.

"_That_, my friend, is how you steal a pearl necklace." He held out his hand to Gru. "The name's Johansson."

"Gru."

* * *

By the time the plane landed, Gru had established an impressive level of trust with Johansson. The old man said he was a supervillain up until World War II, when he met his future wife while touring. "The moment she found out what I used to do, she told me I had to retire," he said a bit wistfully. "But after being a villain for so many years, I couldn't stop completely. What she doesn't know won't hurt her." With that statement, the two departed.

The airport at his destination was curiously deserted. All of the passengers on his plane shuffled off to buses and taxis near the luggage drop-off area. Gru huffed as he dragged his suitcases outside of the airport. Dozens of yellow taxis zoomed up and down the street.

"Okay, this is kinda weird," he said softly. He whipped his head left and right continuously to try and catch any black taxis hidden in the sea of yellow cars. He jumped a bit when he saw a black, shiny taxi crawl its way through traffic.

"Bin—go!" Gru grabbed his bags and ran into the street. Cab drivers honked at him as he awkwardly wove through the cars.

"Excuse me—ah, sorry—HEY!" He froze as the bumper of a taxi tapped his backside. "I see what you did there!"

"Get out of the goddamn street!" The cabbie drove forward a few more inches before pumping his break suddenly, challenging Gru.

"Someday you will rue the day you angered Gru!" He ran over to the black cab and jumped inside of the back seat, fuming.

"Where to?" an icy voice asked from the front. Gru could only see long, silky hair under a cap, as well as two pale hands grasping the steering wheel. A tinted window separated himself from the driver.

"Um…Could you take me to Fatum City?"

He saw the driver's hands clench the steering wheel. "Very well. But before we go I have a question to ask you."

"Y_ee_s…?"

"Why do you want to be a villain?"

Gru felt the inside of his stomach churn. He felt unsafe; the cabbie had pulled the taxi off to the side of the road and was letting the engine idle. No one ever bothered to ask him _wh_y he wanted to be a villain. Even when submitting his application to the academy, the forms seemed less interested in _why_ he wanted to attend and more of what he had to offer. His mother cared less about his interest in villainy and more in listing the ways he would fail. He didn't have many friends in high school, so prying questions from his peers wasn't ever an issue. And surprisingly, he'd never told any of his teachers about his new career path in fear of disappointing them for not going to engineering school.

He gulped and loosened his scarf. "In all honesty, I'm not sure. I thought I wanted to do something else, but…" He sighed and looked down into his lap. "Someone close to me proved I couldn't do it. So I thought, maybe I can do this better. If one day my name is in big print in the paper, then I feel that I would have truly proven myself, you know?"

The tinted window rolled down and the driver spun around in the driver's seat. Gru saw that it was a woman, and her huge eyes were brimming with tears.

"That…was…beautiful." A few tears trickled off her face. "But you're full of garbage."

"Wha?"

"If you go walking into the Academy with a sob-story like that, you won't make it." She spun around and pushed down on the gas, sending Gru crashing into the backseat. She sped away from the airport until they zoomed up a freeway ramp.

"What do you mean?"

"You're very adorable. But at the same time you're kind of a pansy. Not a good look if you want to become a supervillain."

"I'm _not_ a pansy," Gru growled. He couldn't remember the last time so many people pissed him off in one day. "If you really want to know, something _did _happen in my youth that was _kind of traumatic_, thanks very much."

"Oooh, I get to play Dr. Freud. What happened, honey?"

Gru stuck out his bottom lip. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Did superheroes ruin your life too?"

His face softened, surprised. "Something like that, yes."

"Most villains have that in common." She wagged a finger. "Don't worry. The Academy will instill a very palpable sense of hatred inside of you." He caught her grinning in the rearview mirror. "And with smarts paired along with hatred, you can't go wrong. You've gotta work on that pansy thing, though."

Gru bared his teeth. He wished he could snap back with _anything_…But instead he crossed his arms, smashed his back into the seat, and stuck out his tongue like a child. "I _don't like you_."

"Don't care. You like The Bee Gees?" She turned on the radio and blasted disco music throughout the taxi.

Gru's frown faded away a bit. "I do."

She ignored him and turned onto an exit ramp. "You're most definitely not a cop after telling me your sappy life story, so there will be no need for the usual frisking on the side of the road. Though most guys end up liking that part."

"...You were going to frisk me?"

"Anyway, if your fingerprints don't match what we have in the systems once we go through security check, you'll kind of be killed on the spot. Hope you're okay with that. Also, when we go through the security tunnel, I don't need you freaking out."

Gru scoffed. The car went down a hilly street until the road cut through a large field of trees. Soon their taxi sped through the entrance of a tunnel strung with glaring red lights. Curious, Gru pressed his face against his window. He immediately regretted it.

"Oh, what the-?" His jaw dropped as he noticed the strange shapes clinging to the sides of the tunnel. Hundreds of skeletons lined the walls, including the ceiling. Many of them had tattered capes wrapped around bony necks; some even had leather boots still fashionably strapped to skinless feet.

"I told you not to freak out," The driver sighed. "Those are the remains of dead superheroes who've tried to sneak onto the campus. Oh, and some law enforcement too. Frickin' supermans thought they could just waltz in and take out everyone. Idiots." She giggled.

After what seemed like ages to Gru, the driver pulled over to a tiny window on the side of the tunnel. She pressed her hand against a black pad next to the window; a green backlight scanned her fingertips. "Entry Granted,"  
said an electronic voice from the opposite side of the window. She drove the car slowly past the window so the black pad was right outside Gru's car door.

"Press your hand against it," the driver said softly. Complying, Gru pressed his thin hand against the pad. The same green light scanned his fingertips.

"Entry Granted. Welcome to the Academy, Mr. Gru."

"Far out," Gru whispered.

"Glad to know you dig our technology." The driver sped through the rest of the tunnel until they emerged into bright light. Gru shielded his eyes from the rays and squinted into the distance.

"Welcome to the Academy," the driver said proudly. "And remember our school motto: _Hate With Passion_."


	2. The Magician and the Conquistador

**Author's Note: **I'm working on making each chapter shorter than the first. I promise…Please read and review!

* * *

**Love and the Age of the Supervillain**

**Part Two**:

The Magician and the Conquistador

Gru marveled at the great expanse of trees that stretched in every direction: New England elm that burst with reds, greens, and browns. The road cut through the forest for another mile in the direction of a large clearing.

"How old is this school?" he asked the driver.

"It used to be another school, but it got turned into the Academy around the early 1900s. The river was made by us, though." They drove over a stone bridge that crossed over a moat. Craning his neck, Gru saw the sparkling river snake around the whole campus. Soon the two were driving through the campus, and were surrounded by old buildings made of red brick.

He felt as if he were somewhere in 19th century England; the quaintness of the campus made him feel a little sick. "I didn't think the Academy would look so…cute."

The campus streets were paved with cobblestone and lined with gas lamps, the taxi bumping rhythmically against the rocks. "The school officials are super old, so they don't want to change the look of anything." The driver turned left on a narrow street and parked in front of a large domed building. "Okay, Mr. Gru, here's Balch Hall."

He looked out the window hesitantly. On the very top of the hall stood a rusted cross.

"Are you sure this is a dorm? It looks like a church."

"It used to be the entrance to underground catacombs. Quit bugging out and get out of the car." Gru quickly hopped out of the taxi with his luggage, a strong breeze batting against his scarf and slapping it in his face.

"Meet with the dorm guardian and get your key," the driver said, ignoring the assault Gru's scarf was executing on his head. "Then go to Essex Hall in about 30 minutes." Gru gave a thumbs up and blindly made his way through the dorm entrance.

His scarf lay innocently on his shoulders again as soon as he stepped inside of the main entrance. A tiny man sat behind a huge desk in the lobby; two male students stood in line in front of the man, who seemed to have difficulty finding a document in the huge explosion of papers on his desk.

"Come _on_ gramps," one student growled. Gru saw one of the students was in full knight's armor, sword and all. The fluffy feather on his helmet was tickling the nose of the shorter guy behind him, who was dressed as a cat.

"Okay, Mr. Fredricks, Mr…Panther, here are your dorm room keys." The old man's wrinkled hands shook feverishly as he handed small envelopes to the two students. They rushed up the spiral staircase that rose far above the main lobby. The knight's monstrous feet clanked on each step.

"Uh, hi." Gru shuffled to the desk and smiled. "My name is Gru."

"Who?"

"_Gru_. Gee…arr…yoo."

"You…grew…WHAT?"

"GRU!"

"No need to scream and shout," the old man said. "I am Mr. Fife and I will be your dorm guardian for the year. I am here to check in outside guests, as well as alert you if you have any calls." He pointed to a row of old rotary phones lining the wall behind him. "Also, if you need to make any calls, they can't be longer than ten minutes."

"Hoo-kay." Gru bounced on the balls of his feet, impatient.

"I mean it. I don't care if you have some _girl_ back home you _care_ about."

"Well, I don't have a girlfriend, so that's good news for you."

"I'm dead serious." Mr. Fife leaned forward and sized up Gru. "I don't care _how _long you've been dating, or if she's just _dying_ to hear the sound of your voice. In my day, kids went out on dates when they wanted to talk for more than ten minutes. They also waited until marriage to have sex."

"Okay, um, this conversation is gee-ting _kind of awkward_, so I would like to end it now."

"Hmph." Mr. Fife went through a stack of papers and pulled out a small envelope. "Here is the key to your dorm room: 305. Your roommate is Mr. Nefario."

Gru scratched his chin. That name…

"Hurry up before you miss the first meeting of the year." Gru nodded, snatched the envelope, and started his journey up the stairs.

As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of living with another person irritated him deeply for the sole reason that he never had to share with anyone before. He hoped the guy wasn't _too _annoying.

By the time he reached the third floor, he was ready to collapse. His hall was surprisingly clean and modern compared to the rest of the building. The doors were all made of shiny oak and golden plaques were mounted on the fronts with room numbers etched into the gold.

"Three…oh…five." Gru felt anxiety wash over him as he saw that his room door was wide open. He peeked around the door pane.

A large bunk bed sat in one corner, the wood also made of thick oak. Two wooden desks sat opposite each other, one already decorated with…playing cards…and a bunny? Even weirder, the bunny was sitting next to a handle of vodka.

"Hey."

Gru yelled and jumped around. In front of him stood a thin, auburn-haired guy with a black cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He came up only to Gru's chin, but stood with an air of confidence. Dark, round sunglasses bounced on the bridge of his nose as he tapped his foot impatiently.

"Did I scare you? I do that to people." Gru was amused by his Liverpool accent and knew forever when he heard Danny speak, he would think of John Lennon. Gru shook his hand generously, still weirded out by the cape.

"Gru."

"The name's Danny. But soon I'm going to be _The Illusionist_. Check it." He waved his hands elaborately in front of Gru's face. Gru scrunched his nose as the intrusion into his personal space, but his eyes widened when he saw something small appear out of thin air within Danny's palm.

"What is that?"

"A joint. Want some?"

Gru blinked. "Aren't we supposed to be somewhere?"

"Yeah, the first meeting of the year. But cool your jets." He placed his hand on Gru's shoulder, which surprisingly calmed him. His roommate was most definitely tripping out on _something_, but his smooth demeanor was oddly comforting.

Gru put his suitcases next to the bunk bed and sat down. "You're going to get blazed before we're supposed to go?"

"Hmm." Danny looked down at the blunt regretfully, lighter already afire near the tip. "That probably isn't the best idea, is it?" He put the lighter back on his desk and dramatically slammed his hands flat onto its surface. "Good watching out. We party later."

* * *

Gru and Danny walked in a large crowd of awkward-looking freshmen toward Essex Hall, a looming building in the distance that resembled a statehouse.

"Danny, I noticed that you last name is Nefario. Are you by any chance related to the infamous _Dr._ Nefario?"

"I am." Danny grinned and rest both his hands behind his neck. "Dude's my uncle."

Gru felt his inner child squeal. "He shows up in the papers all of the time as the most infamous villain scientist."

"Yea. I'm truckin' on, keeping the family tradition alive." Danny smirked, but fell silent once he glimpsed over Gru's shoulder. He raised his sunglasses from his face and whistled. "Whoa."

"Huh?" Gru looked to his left and saw a girl with shimmering black hair tied into a hair knot. A tiny lily sat inside the bun, waving delicately in cadence with her walk. Casually she looked over at Gru. She looked ahead again. She did a quick double take, squint her eyes, and then sped up her trot.

"Watch this," Danny said, creeping up on the girl. He cleared his throat and tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me miss, but I don't believe we've ever met."

She spun around and frowned at him. "Buzz off."

"I'm not sure if you're familiar with The Illusionist, but I'm going to be the next big thing in crime. And honey, I think this magician's got something of yours you're missing."

"Oh, really? And what would that be?"

Danny reached into his jacket and pulled out a lacy bra. "Looking for this?"

She grabbed her chest and gasped. "How did you do that?"

He took her hand and kissed it. "My friends call me Danny. My lovers call me Daniel."

Mouth hanging open, the girl gently grasped Danny's hovering hand. "I'm Jun. Jun Yi. This—this is my roommate Illia." She weakly pointed her thumb behind her shoulder. The girl behind her waved, but Danny's eyes stayed glued to Jun's.

"You both look radiant today. But alas, I have to continue acquainting myself with my roommate before this meeting." He magicked a slip of paper out of thin air and handed it to Jun. "This is my business card. I expect to see you in my room soon."

"Uh, yeah," Jun mumbled. "Nice to meet you, Daniel." She blushed, grabbed her roommate's hand, and scurried off deeper into the crowd.

Gru's mouth hung open. "How did you—what just happened—huh?"

"I've got a magic touch with the ladies. No biggie. Anyway…What's your story?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know anything about you, Mr. Tall, dark and mysterious. You don't seem to talk a lot."

"I don't think it's necessary," Gru said.

"Yeah well, how'd you end up here?" Both the students became distracted by a hulking guy in front of them carrying a huge mace.

"Well…" Gru clasped his hands behind his back, looking incredibly contemplative. "I wanted to see if I could catch on to this whole _villain_ thing." He brought his thumb and forefinger together in front of his face. "There's something about it that I feel good about. I was going to do something else, but, eh…"

"Were you going to be a doctor? Maybe a scientist? Engineer or something?"

Gru perked up. "Something like that. How did you—?"

"_Everyone _here is a huge nerd, Gru, whether it be love for the sciences or something geeky like being obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons." They watched a skinny, pale kid run in front of them wearing a wizard's robe and waving a staff. "Or, you know, you're just a plain freak."

"I am not a freak," Gru said with a deep-set frown.

"We've all got a little freak inside of us, if you know what I mean," Danny said, nudging Gru. "But anyway, I'm not surprised you're here. Usually smart kids don't fit in anywhere else, and next thing you know you're robbing a candy store for all its Twinkies with a machine gun and a can of pepper spray."

Gru raised a brow. "Really."

"Yup. That's when _I _knew villainy was my calling. Intelligence, family issues, and a lot of time on your hands can really screw you up." Danny shrugged. "But it all pays off because we get to end up as supervillains."

"Come on, move it along," said school official prodding passing students with a stick. Darkness and cool air washed over Gru as he stepped inside the building.

"Whoa…" He looked up at the massive auditorium and its hundreds of seats. The ceiling above was huge and vaulted; elaborate paintings of angels and demons graced the cement surface. Gru almost ran into several students while finding a seat next to his roommate.

He looked toward the massive stage and nearly went blind as a bright spotlight shone on a tall man. He rubbed the end of his long moustache and rested his weight on an elegant cane in his opposite hand. The man was in full _conquistador _get-up, a fluffy Spanish hat on his head and equally fluffy maroon pants on his waist. Gru noted that his ruffled blouse was amazingly pristine.

"I feel like I'm at a Halloween party," Gru whispered to Danny.

"Welcome, students!" The conquistador held his hands over the crowd to quell their chattering. "I am Dean Philips and I welcome you to the Academy of Villainy and other Diabolical Arts!" The crowd cheered and whistled. Dean Phillips bowed. "I know you are all excited to start your first day of class, but now is the time to focus." A few loud retorts echoed through the crowd followed by laughter.

Phillips raised his large arms forward and clapped his hands together, a giant gust of wind rolling over the audience. "**SILENCE!"**

The freshmen immediately fell silent. One guy fainted in the second row.

"The first thing I want to say is that this institution will change your life forever…if you want it to. You have a lot of difficulties to overcome before you are a true villain."

Oh God, the stereotypical school speech where the dean tells the students the importance of education and how they would have to overcome hurdles to reach their goal. Gru sat through high school graduation and wanted to kill himself _then_.

"For the class of 1984, there will only be thirty graduates."

Wait, _what?_ Gru frowned and looked around at his peers. There had to be—

"There are currently 500 of you here today. During each and every day during your stay at the academy, our institution will test your prowess as a villain as you grow. All of your professors will see how much you value your strength, your sanity, and your _life_. If you succeed, you will find yourself graduating and being one of the world's top villains. All other 470 students will find themselves failing."

A girl sitting next to Gru leaned over and whispered, "Is this guy for real?"

"If you are one of the students that _will _fail, you may find yourself getting shot, maimed, set on fire, or killed by our own staff." A collective gasp. Phillips held up his hand. "Or even worse—in the middle of a jail cell."

Phillips walked the span of the stage, huge hands now on his hips. "I will not sugarcoat anything. In order for our institution to survive, we cannot harbor any fugitives. If you are on a mission a professor assigned to you and the police come here to find you, we cannot protect you."

Several people in the audience yelled. One person yelled, "That's bullshit!"

"It is. But!" Phillips faced the crowd again, smiling. "Our professors will accompany you on many of your first missions and will protect you from law enforcement you encounter the best they can. Remember—our institution has no intention of destroying you, but _training _you. We will teach you how to not get caught, and those that excel never will be."

Gru felt hot in his sweater. _What have I gotten myself into?_

"Some of you I'm sure are thinking about withdrawing from the program as soon as this meeting is over. Those of you will never become real villains." Phillips flipped his feather out of his face. "But for those of you who will stay, please go to your left and register for your classes in alphabetical order. I wish you luck and safety in your first year."

And with that, Phillips disappeared behind the heavy stage curtain. Students mumbled and made quick exits; a large mass made their way to the side of the auditorium lined with long tables. Hesitant, Gru followed the crowd to the registrar's table.

He stood in line for a few minutes before taking a sweeping glance of the "characters" in front of him: a few young guys were stroking nefarious-looking curly beards. Some students even had hand-made guns while standing in line, only to have them confiscated once they reached the registrar.

"Come on, keep on moving. Yes, you right there, put that ray gun into the box." Soon Gru was looking into the face of a heavyset woman going through a giant stack of papers. "You know the rules: all weapons are to be registered or made on the campus labs."

"I don't have any weapons on me." Gru held up both hands.

"Good." The woman grinned. "There a lot of rich kids who come to this school with ready-made arsenal. What's your last name?"

"Gru."

"Gru, Gru…" She went through a stack of envelopes and pulled one. "Mr. Gru, Here is your registration packet. Good luck." She handed him the large envelope and shooed him out of the line.

He opened the envelope and was greeted with the header **Freshman Orientation Packet**. He wandered off to a seat in the auditorium where it was less noisy and opened a pamphlet. He skimmed over the monster paragraphs until he got to the second page:

_Freshmen are required to take five mandatory courses that span both semesters. They must choose two elective courses, both which will also span both semesters._

Gru smirked at some of the course descriptions, feeling significantly less-terrified about his recent scholastic choice.

_**The History of War and Villains – Professor Tzu**__: It is important for all students to have historical knowledge of villains and criminals, as well as the educational background to distinguish between the two. A world history course with a villain theory perspective._

_**Becoming a Villainous Architect: The Basics of Being Despicable – Professor Johansson: **__How does a villain construct a devious plan? What are several pitfalls that a villain encounters when plotting? How does a villain interact with civilians as to not blow his or her cover? And perhaps most importantly, how does a villain choose allies? This course is the base all other freshman courses are built upon. Those that excel in the class have an advantage in being considered for graduation._

Gru's eyes widened at the last sentence. And the name Johansson…He skimmed the rest of the mandatory courses catalogue and chuckled. "Basic Combat and Kung-Fu…General Chemistry and Bomb Building with Lab…Spying 101..." He checked the boxes beside the courses. Hopefully the classes wouldn't be as ridiculous as they sounded on paper.

He flipped the page and glanced at the electives. There were over a dozen foreign language courses and a memory suddenly flashed before him:

"_Look, mom!" Gru yelled while running across the lawn. He waved a large news journal with the acronym NASA printed across it. "Guess what!"_

"_Did you get your drawers twisted up again?" Gru's mom crooned._

_Gru frowned. "No. I read in this book that NASA likes to recruit astronauts that are multilingual!" Prideful, he puffed out his chest._

_She scoffed. "You know Polish and English. Not very impressive."_

"_I learned some Russian before we moved!"_

"_Eh, barely." She went back to her knitting._

Automatically, he wrote down _Russian_ _I_ as his first elective. He bit his lip hard out of frustration and put down _Spanish I _as his second elective. Feeling his childhood pride swell inside of his chest again, he got back in line to give his schedule to the registrar.


	3. Getting Schooled

**Love and the Age of the Supervillain**

**Part Three:**

Getting Schooled

Gru did not have a lot of experience with girls.

He had exactly three romantic experiences from his past:

#1: In the third grade he had a "girlfriend" named Lily who lived next door to him. She was his only friend for the longest time. One day he saw her holding hands with another little boy. When he confronted her, she said she, "had to move on to bigger and better things."

#2: In middle school he had his first kiss after an incredibly awkward school dance.

#3: He discovered the magical world of lotion and conveniently-placed hand towels in the 9th grade and never looked back. A shy girl _did _ask him out to prom during senior year…He ended the night by bringing her home early after failing to unhook her bra after a 20-minute attempt.

When he woke up at 1:00 AM to his roommate having sex in the bed above him, he felt incredibly awkward. Was he supposed to lie there and listen? Tell them to stop? Was he supposed to leave?

_Oh shit_. He had to sneeze.

He covered his mouth but failed; he sneezed and all rocking motions stopped.

"Gru?" Danny asked into the darkness.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are you listening to me go at it, mate?"

"…Well kind of, but not really."

"Oh." Danny paused. "Does it bother you if Gru listens in?"

"Of course I do!" said an incredibly offended voice from above.

"Oh. So Jun, do you want him to, you know…" Gru could imagine Danny leaning his head to the side as he struggled with his next sentence. "Join us?"

"WHAT?" Both Gru and Jun said in unison.

"He is _NOT_ joining us. I don't even know that guy!"

"Well dear, we also met less than 24 hours ago, so that really isn't a strong argument on your behalf. Now I'm going to be kind to my roommate and _share_. Gru, would you like to join us up here?"

"Um, that's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well, now that I think about it, your roommate is pretty cute…" Jun trailed off hesitantly.

"It's two to one now, Gru. Are you sure you want to defy thousands of years of democracy?"

Gru groaned and rolled out of the bed. "I think I'll just go sleep outside." Tired, he pulled his comforter and bed sheets off his bed and dragged himself out into the hallway. Glad the hall lights were dimmed, he crawled into a tiny ball and finally went to sleep.

* * *

After several hours and a surprisingly lavish breakfast, Gru was sitting in his first class: _Becoming a Villainous Architect: The Basics of Being Despicable._

"The first thing I want everyone to do is write down how you would plan on stealing the Mona Lisa."

Gru did not expect this question on the first day of his first class, but he wasn't expecting to see Mr. Johansson standing at the front of the classroom either. The only acknowledgement he gave Gru was a quick wink before turning his back to the class and writing on the chalkboard.

_Steal the Mona Lisa? WHAT? _Gru noticed a few other confused faces in the class, but quickly got to work.

How did the villains in the paper manage to steal ridiculously secured things? A person would have to have access to the security system at the Louvre, of course…a map of where security personnel would be, as well as a perfect way to hack the system—

"Okay, tell me what you've written down." Johansson pointed toward the knight seated in the front row. "You. What's your name?"

"The Black Knight!" The Black Knight high-fived a girl dressed as a ninja sitting next to him.

"I'll call you The Black Knight when you become a sophomore and actually know something. What's your real name?"

"Ellis Tucker," said the guy formally known as The Black Knight. He looked down into his lap.

"Mr. Tucker, what did you write down?"

"Ahem. WELL…" Ellis held up his sheet of paper as if reading a senate speech. "First I would disarm the security system and apprehend all guards on the premises."

_Dammit! _Gru twirled his pencil angrily. _Everyone knows to do that…_

"And then what would you do?" Johansson asked.

"Then I would simply go in and steal the artwork," he said, shrugging. "If all security systems are down, that means there's nothing that can record me on a camera or anyone around to stop me. I would make sure to leave no DNA evidence behind as well. If you bring along some tools to extract the artwork from its environment, then all would go well."

"Interesting," Johansson said. "That's all fine and dandy…Until the police come. Do you seriously think you can disarm a major security system and expect police authorities to not be alerted? Also, I'm sure you know the painting isn't hanging on the wall with a piece of string and a nail. By the time you break that thing off the wall, the police will already be standing behind you with handcuffs. Nice, but try again."

Ellis growled and crossed his arms.

"Mr. Gru, what did you write down?" Johansson asked randomly.

Gru cocked his head to one side. "I think extensive research should be done on the building layout of the Louvre—to see if there are any alternative entrances other than walking through the front door. Also, I think all of the police stations near the museum should be contacted to the point of gridlock. Perhaps a huge diversion outside of the museum can also be prepared. If security systems are disabled, law enforcement will be delayed in responding to the heist. Maybe some carefully planned acts of arson or car wrecks. Maybe even civil unrest…." Gru tapped his fingers together, smiling evilly. "And of course, the painting should be replaced with a fake to fool the museum curators until I make a speedy getaway."

Johansson's face lit up. "Excellent, Mr. Gru!" He clasped his hands together. "Very brilliant plan."

Gru blew on his nails and rubbed them against his chest. _Awesome_.

"Too bad you've overlooked some things in your brilliant plan, though."

Gru's heart fell. "What?"

"You covered four of the five bases." Johansson turned to the chalkboard, added a few words to what he wrote earlier, then stood back. Gru read:

_THE VILLIAN METHOD_

#1: Research

#2: Location

#3: Disarm

#4: Disable

#5: Deploy!

"This is the basic means that every heist and evil deed is planned. Remember it and live it. It will serve you well.

"I'm glad you mentioned researching the location. But you must also research _what_ it is you are stealing. Is it really worth the effort of stealing? And what would prevent security from being able to protect said item?" Johansson wrote his highlights on the board. "Gru, did you know that there are weapons in the Louvre that will fire if the painting is moved so much as an inch while security is disabled?"

"No, I did not," Gru said.

"Would you risk your life for the Mona Lisa?"

"No."

"Too bad, because there are other people that will. Always research your object of interest before going about your plans."

"Professor Johansson," Ninja Girl said, "there isn't a difference between _disarming_ and _disabling_, is there?"

"There is. But first…you must figure out everything about the location you're going to, as well as how you can get there. As for disarming…When you disarm your enemy, you simply take away their weapons and means of combating you. But when you disable your enemy, you strike the enemy itself to prevent them from attacking you.

"Gru explained rather eloquently that to disarm his enemies he would plan a diversion such as fires or riots. Which I think is quite genius." Johansson tapped the chalk against the palm of his hand. "But _disabling_ your enemy is important as well. Some villains are against this offensive tactic, but it helps you in the long run. And finally, of course, you deploy your plan."

Gru was impressed, but still upset to have his plans criticized.

"We're going to go on our first emersion fieldtrip. These trips will put you into real-life environments where you will use The Villain Method to steal an object or deploy a devious plan. Pack up your things, we're leaving now."

In the far back a girl swinging a mace cried, "Should we bring weapons?"

Johansson rolled his eyes. "No. Not where we're going."

* * *

The horde of villains-to-be created a nice freak parade as they walked through a suburban neighborhood. Tanning moms swept up their children and men abandoned their lawnmowers in mid-cut. Gru enjoyed the feeling of chaos around him as he saw a lawn sprinkler go rogue at the _sight_ of him.

"Here it is, ladies and gentlemen. Your first emersion fieldtrip location."

Ninja Girl raised her hand. "'Scuse me prof, but is this a disco club?"

Disconcerted looks washed across the whole group.

"It is, indeed, a disco." Johansson wrung his hands together, a wicked grin widening on his face. "We are going to go inside, apply The Villain Method, and steal the giant disco ball hanging from the ceiling."

"This is a _stupid_ idea," yelled Ellis, whom from this point forth will be referred to as The Black Knight.

Johansson froze. "Who said that?"

The Black Knight raised his gauntlets. "I did. I think this entire trip is asinine. Why would a real supervillain want to steal a stupid—OW!" Johansson grabbed The Black Knight's arm and twisted it behind his back. With amazing dexterity for an old man, he also ripped off the kid's metal helmet.

"What did you say to me, BOY?"

The Black Knight sputtered. "Let—me—"

"NO. You listen up." Johansson twisted the boy's arm more, squeezing pitiful squeaks from his mouth. "I've been a villain for over forty years. _I'm _a seasoned professional. _I _know that for you to become a supervillain you're going to have to know how to steal a _goddamn disco ball_. Do you know how much those things _weight_?" For added effect, he pressed his small body against The Black Knight, which surprisingly sent him to the ground. "You think this will be a cake walk? Do you, _punk?_"

"No, sir! I'm sorry for defying your teaching instruction, sir!"

"Good." Johansson released him and returned to his benevolent state. "Let's continue, shall we?"

Gru and the rest of the students became simultaneously terrified and respectful of their professor.

As they entered the disco, Gru felt his face flush. The bright, flashing lights, the bellbottom jeans, the roller skates, the afros…It all reminded him of not too long ago.

_Gru, seventeen years old, turned up his radio. His door was locked, his pants were off, and he was ready to get down._

"_On the Billboard Top 40 this week is _Night Fever_ by The Bee Gees! If you haven't seen _Saturday Night Fever_ with John Travolta, then where the heck have you been? Let the boogie live on!"_

_The film had been released earlier that year. Gru was obsessed. His mother didn't know, and he was pretty sure _no one else_ knew…But he was in love with disco. He had a poster of a hairy-chested John Travolta on the inside of his closet door. He had dozens of records by ABBA, Leo Sayer, Rose Royce, and of course…The Bee Gees. He also had a pair of platform shoes, but due to gender roles in his neighborhood they were very difficult to find in a men's size._

_Adrenaline coursed through his body as he heard the music drift almost magically from his radio. _Then I got night fever, night fever, we know how to do it…

_And then he danced. There were twirls, splits, and plenty of pelvic thrusts, all perfectly in sync with the song. Delirious, he wagged his disco fingers and spun around in a circle. _

"Gru? GRU!"

Gru shook his head and returned back to 1980. "What? What's going on?"

"I _said _that you need to join the group over there." Johansson pointed toward the group of students who were hovering suspiciously in a corner of the club. Gru scratched the back of his head and shuffled over to the crowd.

"…So I was going off of the first and second steps of The Villain Method," said a girl standing in the middle of the circle. She was short and wore large, red glasses that sparkled under the rays of the disco ball. Light freckles sprinkled her tan skin, and Gru immediately remembered seeing her before: she was Jun Song's roommate. _What was her name again…?_

"As you can see," she said while motioning toward the ceiling, "the ball is held up by some rope or metal wire at the top of the club. As you can also see," she said, pointing two feet away, "there are some very large and scary guards that are watching our every move."

Sure enough, there were two hulking guards staring at the group of villains-to-be. One spoke very clearly, even through the steady hum of the club's music, "Don't even think about it, shorty."

"This sucks," said Cassie, a girl dressed as a devil. She swung her fake tail around. "Creating an adequate and believable diversion is going to be like, super hard."

"You're right. It is going to be like, super hard," Jun's roommate said deadpan.

"We can create an easy diversion while someone takes care of the rope." Gru's throat went dry as everyone stared at him. "I saw that the DJ is standing behind a ladder that leads toward the ceiling. Someone can take care of that guy." Gru put both hands on his hips, more confident. "Then some people can go out on the dance floor and create a distraction for the guards. That will be us disarming the club."

"Uh-huh. Okay. And what about disabling the club? How does that one work?" Jun's roommate was mirroring Gru's stance.

"Someone like The Black Knight can take out the guards while people are also getting the disco ball down." He looked at The Black Knight's face, which proved to be very round and innocent-looking with his helmet off. "Are you up for that?"

"Yeah. I'm cool." He rolled his shoulders, clinking his armor.

"Okay. But what is going to be this great diversion that will even distract the guards before we…" Jun's roommate smacked her fist into her opposite open palm, "take them out?"

"Chillax. Leave that to me." He leaned closer into the circle and motioned with his hands for everyone else to lean in as well. With the students whispering amongst themselves, the guards took note of the suspicious behavior and put a firmer grip on their holsters.

"Aye-aye, Gru," said Derek, a student dressed as a pirate. Derek and Cassie danced their way toward the DJ, who was bobbing a huge afro along to the beat of the music. Gru watched from afar as Cassie rolled up to the DJ to touch his chest. He seemed immensely distracted by her skimpy clothing. Based on his facial expressions, Gru reckoned the guy was trying to figure out the pros and cons of responding to her over-excessive touching. Cassie leaned into his ear to ask a question, and the DJ nodded feverishly. He bent forward into the mic in front of his vinyls.

"Ladies and gents, we have a request from a dancer to play _Shake Your Groove Thing _by Peaches and Cream!"

The crowd whooped, Gru inhaled deeply, and then took his place on the dance floor.

The ground lit up with a wondrous gradient of purples, blues, and greens; the colors oscillated across the huge space and created a psychedelic illusion throughout the club. People bumped asses and waved arms to the music…

Until Gru started to dance.

It took a few seconds for the initial sight to set in for the other dancers, but soon they were in shock. "Give the brotha some room!" someone screamed, and the crowd backed into the corners of the club to give Gru ample space to get down.

Jaws dropped. Eyes were rubbed. Eyeglasses shattered. Miles away, women went into labor. Gru's classmates stared in awe as his body grooved in way they'd never seen before. Even the club bouncers and guards were staring at Gru's intense moves.

In the back of the club, Cassie punched the dazed DJ in the guts, and Derek dragged him away. Several other stunned students shook their heads to tear their eyes away from Gru. They hurried up the ladder behind the DJ both.

Pulling himself up effortlessly from a sideways split, Gru then performed a move that wouldn't be seen again by the rest of the world until 1983: he _moonwalked_.

One man covered his eyes with his hairy palms. "It's so beautiful…I've gone BLIND!"

Gru swung his hair around and shook his hips in a way sure to make Elvis jealous. He was John Travolta through and through.

"That ass is out of contr_ooooo_l!" yelled a woman from the crowd. Everyone started to clap and cheer him on, including the guards. The Black Knight took advantage of the moment and crushed the guard's throats with his bare hands. They choked as he dragged them away. High above the crowd, Cassie and Derek sidled across the rope with their hands and knees wrapped around the metal wire. They closed in on the disco ball.

Completely high on the music and in tune with his soul, Gru grabbed the nearest body and pulled it close to his. He looked down into the eyes of Jun's roommate, who was shaking her hands in disapproval. "No, no no—"

He ignored her, spun her around, and flung her far into the center of the dance floor. She looked down at her feet, sheepish and embarrassed.

"Come on little girl, shake it!" yelled one man from the crowd who was wearing pants _way _too tight for his legs. She sighed, then starting to move her body in rhythm to the music. She was no match for Gru, but he smirked at her and the crowd cheered.

They danced in circles around each other, Gru always trying to one-up her with a more elaborate dance move. In response she'd combat him with a familiar move from _Saturday Night Fever_. The song finally coming to an end, he pulled her close to his chest, and swept low to the floor. A brilliant spotlight shined on the two; Gru kept them hovering inches above the floor almost magically. The crowd cheered, and Jun's roommate stared blankly into Gru's eyes in disbelief.

And then the disco ball crashed into the floor.

Electricity surged throughout the club, and all the lights flickered off.

"You've officially been duped by the greatest up-and-coming villains!" yelled The Black Knight.

Gru broke from his dance haze. He looked down at his dance partner, who was still staring into his eyes romantically. He dropped her onto the floor.

"Ow!" she said.

Gru dusted himself off. "Well. That went as planned." He rushed over to the giant disco ball and, along with several others, helped haul it up from the floor. Jun's roommate growled and helped the rest of the crew scurry out of the darkness as everyone else screamed in panic.

* * *

"That was SICK!" Derek stuffed his face full of fried rice, and slapped Cassie a high-five. All of the students were sitting in a Chinese restaurant, their meal a treat from Professor Johansson.

"You all did a marvelous job today," Johansson said, gushing. "And Gru, those _moves_—I've never seen a human body do things like yours did today!"

Gru genuinely blushed. "I'm just glad it worked."

"Dude, are you going to teach me your secret? How did you do that slidey-thing with your feet?" Derek punched Gru playfully against the arm. "You must have been popular in high school, am I right?"

"Not really…" Gru ate a mouthful of beef and broccoli. "I nev—ah danced in poo—blic until too—day."

"And _you _young lady—" Johansson looked across the table.

"Illia," said Jun's roommate. Gru remembered her name finally and nodded his head to himself. "And really, it was all Gru."

"Well, Illia, I thought you two were amazing. And the quick handiwork getting the ball down was genius as well." Johansson looked to his left. The disco ball was sitting in a chair next to him with a bowl of food for itself. "I'm really glad it went smoothly. Which gives me confidence for my next announcement."

Everyone at the table leaned anxiously toward Johansson. "During the next few weeks we are going to plan a major heist. We're going to steal the Mona Lisa."

"Are you serious?" Derek gasped. Everyone murmured around the table in disbelief.

"No disrespect, professor," The Black Knight said politely this time. "I know we stole a disco ball and all, but I don't think that compares to the Mona Lisa. Theoretically it's fun to think about, but they have like, lasers and canons in there I've heard."

Johansson growled at the student, who then recoiled. "I know that it sounds like a lot, but trust me. It's doable. Of course, other villains from our school have failed in the past… but I believe under Gru's command, it can be done."

Gru choked on a piece of broccoli. "Excuse me?"

"That's right. Gru is going to be the official Group Leader for our first heist of the year. He'll make meetings to plan everything," Johansson said.

"Wait—what? I can't—I don't know how—"

"Such little faith." Johansson picked at his orange chicken. "I know you can do it, Gru."

As soon as Gru and the rest of the students set foot on campus, they rushed off toward the dining hall for more food, or headed off to their dorm for a mid-afternoon nap. Gru, on the other hand, was deep in thought as he walked to his next class: Russian.

But before he entered the thin, impossibly tall building that was the language hall, he was stopped by dozens of students who already heard about the news. Cries of, "Dancing King!" and "Our Dear Leader!" followed him until he set foot into the classroom.

Windows lined the walls and let glowing sunlight bask the room. Instead of desks, plush couches and chairs sat elegantly in the space. Gru thought for a moment he was in the wrong place before a gentle hand tapped his shoulder. He turned around and saw a petite, platinum-blonde woman with an equally silver sweater clinging tight to her body. She had to be at least 40.

"Hello," she said softly. Immediately Gru felt uncomfortable by her attractiveness. He backed away from her onto a couch and smiled. "Um, hi."

"It looks like you're the first one here."

"Um, yes." He looked down at his skinny legs and tapped his feet. _Awkward silence._

Over the next ten minutes, twenty more students entered the comfy room, wowing at its grandeur. The woman Gru assumed to be his teacher stepped into the middle of the class.

"Hello, everyone. I am Professor Robinson. You may call me Ms. Robinson. I will be your Russian teacher for this year. I've spent much of my life in Eastern Europe, so you can rest assured you will learn what you need to know from me. I do not believe in chalk boards or tests or papers, so you won't have to worry about writing for my class."

_What the hell?_ _Is she serious? _Gru crossed his arms and sat for fifty minutes straight listening to what he assumed would be a bunch of bullshit.

But by the time class ended, he was quite shocked. He wasn't sure _how _she did it, or even sure if he remembered _what_ she did…but he was comfortable with formal and informal Russian greetings, how to talk about the weather, as well as how to explain to others how he felt. There was even some verb conjugation thrown in there. He was utterly dumbfounded, if not frustrated, at how _easy _she made everything. _Maybe she's a witch_.

He even felt a bit light-headed and dreamy as he rose from the sofa. While waiting for the crowd to clear in front of the door, Gru felt a gentle hand yet again on his shoulder. "Could you wait behind for a few minutes?" Ms. Robionson asked.

He shot his professor a funny look and waited for the room to empty. The door closed, and Gru leaned against it with his arms crossed, expectant.

"I know that this is the first day of class and I don't know you too well, but I already know you're going to be a great student," she said. She blushed and twirled her silver hair in her fingers.

"Eh, I already to know Polish and some Russian. I'm sure that's why class was easy for me." _Or maybe you're a witch_.

"Well that's just _great_." She ran her thin hand up and down Gru's arm and smiled.

His eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"_Hush_." She pressed her index finger against his lips. "Don't say anything. Just let your _body say how you feel_." She ran her hands up and down Gru's chest and began to pull his scarf off.

"Whoaaa." He pinned himself up against the door as she moved closer. She giggled and snuck her hand under his sweater. "I—I don't think you should be doing this, Ms. Robinson—"

"I've seen the way you look at me," she breathed, "and I know what you want." She kissed him deeply.

Panicked, Gru flailed his arms around and pushed Ms. Robinson away. "What are you, crazy? We can't make out in a classroom—"

"You're right. My next class starts soon." She cupped her hands around Gru's face and stared deep into his eyes. "We will have to meet in private. I live in the on-campus professor cottages. Building 4. Remember it." She kissed him deeply once more, red lipstick smearing on his own lips.

"Ha..ha…" He felt the room spin and his vision blur. He grabbed and twisted the door handle.

"I'll be waiting for you, you wonderful hunk of man." Ms. Robinson blew him a kiss as he opened the door and scrambled outside.

* * *

Gru slinked into his dorm room while pinching his eyebrows. "Ugh."

"Something wrong?" Danny was sitting at his desk hunched over a massive book. His right hand was busy writing on a sheet of paper even as his head was turned away. "The title of _Dance King_ getting to you?"

"Oh, God. Who told you?"

"Everyone. Everyone loves you."

"Tell me about it. My Russian teacher. Ms. Robinson. She—ah, it's nothing." Gru flopped himself onto his bed and pulled himself into a fetal position. "I'm just glad the day is over for now."

"You want to cuddle with Simone?"

Gru blinked. "What?"

"My pet bunny." Danny pointed to his rabbit cage. Simone stared deep into Gru's eyes from across the room.

Gru shied away from her haunting gaze. "Ah, no, that's okay." Something seemed creepily human about the pet.

"Oooh…Did you say no classes until _tomorrow_?" Gru saw that Danny had stopped writing completely and had pulled his glasses off. His eyes were sparkling. "Do you know what we should do?"

"You're right." Gru pulled himself out of bed. "Mr. Johansson assigned me as the Group Leader for the first freshman heist of the year."

"Sick! Even more of an excuse to celebrate!" Danny stood up, clapped his hands as if settling on some unspoken decision, and then rambled through his drawer.

"No, no." Gru held up his hands in defeat. "No celebrating. I should start studying and planning now—"

"I don't want to hear that kind of talk." Danny finally pulled out a glass pipe from his drawer. It was a beautiful aquamarine; its immaculate and well-kept appearance proved Danny to be a very proud owner. "We are smoking this shit _now,_ then going over to the girl's dorm."

"WHAT is THAT?" Gru pointed to the pipe in distain. "Do you actually touch that thing with your mouth?"

"Her name is Julia. She's quite reliable." Danny didn't waste any time stuffing the pipe's bowl with weed from his drawer. Gru bit his lip out of hesitation as Danny pulled out a lighter. "You look like you're buggin', dude."

"I've never…" Gru swirled his index finger around the pipe. "Smoked before."

Danny's eyes bulged. "Are you serious? God, this will be amazing, then. A lot of people don't get high the first time, but let's hope for the best. Follow what I do."

Gru felt his stomach lurch and his mother's voice echo in his head. "_I better not catch you smoking any of that garbage. What, you want to end up like your Uncle Frankie?" _He didn't realize it until he was older, but his Uncle Frankie had the curious habit of stealing their furniture to sell for drug money.

"Yoo-hoo, you home?" Danny snapped his fingers in front of Gru's face.

"Oh. Yeah. Go on with the weed tutorial."

"Well," Danny said proudly, "first you want to put a finger over this hole on the side. Then you want to light up your stash." Danny pressed his index finger over the hole on the pipe and with his other hand lit his lighter. "Then you want to suck on the end until your lungs are almost full and then release your finger!" he said quickly. He lit the weed, and then sucked long on the end of the pipe for a good five seconds; he released his finger, and then sucked in the collected smoke. Smooth as ever, he exhaled the smoke into several tiny rings that floated up toward the ceiling.

"_Whoa_." Gru was impressed. He gently took the pipe from Danny, lit up, and a few seconds later was in a coughing fit.

"Haha," Danny said slowly.

They passed the pipe back and forth a few times more, Gru coughing less every hit and both their eyes getting redder the longer they sat. Gru found himself staring at the intricate design on his bedspread for five minutes straight before Danny declared him officially stoned.

"Okay. Our adventure begins now." Danny picked up an aerosol can sitting on his desk, and sprayed an arc across the room. He also sprayed himself and Gru for good measure.

Gru stood up. "Oh…shit." Time had most definitely slowed down and the entire world was warmer by 10 degrees. "Why are we going to the girls' dorm again?"

"It will pay off later. Trust me." Danny flicked his wrist with a flourish and motioned Gru to exit the room. Blinking furiously, Gru felt himself float out the door.

Contrary to his mother, school PSAs, and anti-drug propaganda commercials said, Gru suffered no ill effects from the weed. Well, except some stupidity. The world didn't burst into bright colors like he thought it would, but he most definitely was high as a kite.

Unfortunately, trying to get into the girls' dorm while high proved to be much more difficult than Gru thought.

"Males are not allowed to go upstairs," the Dorm Guardian said with a deep frown set in her face. Harwood Hall's lobby was significantly less creepy looking than Balch Hall. Lavish sofas, ottomans, and chairs furnished the area. Gru felt guilty for simply standing on the giant Persian rug that adorned the floor.

"My friend Jun said it was okay to come over…whenever," Danny said slowly.

_God, this guy can't talk his way out of a paper bag._ Gru could tell Danny's sweet-talking abilities were greatly diminished under the influence of drugs.

"That doesn't mean anything," the Dorm Guardian said.

"Then maybe we'll have to force ourselves in," Gru said with an edge in his voice.

The girls' Dorm Guardian pulled out a massive ray gun and aimed it at Gru's face. "I don't think so."

Danny frowned and grabbed Gru's arm. "Let's go." The two went outside again, but Danny was rubbing his hands menacingly. "I have a brilliant plan. We're going to dress up as chicks and then she'll let us through."

Gru burst into a fit of giggles. "That will never work."

Danny laughed as well. "I know, right? We're screwed." Admitting temporary defeat, the two walked the perimeter of the dorm until they reached the back. Ivy crawled up the cement siding to an open window.

"Yo!" screeched Danny. A few seconds later, a girl's head peeked from the window.

"What do you want?" The girl asked.

Gru thought Danny was going to ask the girl to throw some rope down so they could climb in, but he was proven wrong. "Can you tell all your friends and Jun Song to come over to Balch Hall? Room 305?"

The girl sneered. "You creeper. Why should we go to _your _room?"

"We have tons of weed. Like, bags."

* * *

Mr. Fife, despite his strong resolve and steadfast belief in keeping males and females separate until marriage, let the dozen or so girls into Balch Hall. Within minutes, they were in Gru and Danny's room taking hits from a joint and eating snack foods.

Everyone was sprawled throughout the room. Jun was wrapped around Danny, yet in heated argument with a girl across the room about the potential economic recession and Jimmy Carter. Much to Gru's own surprise, three girls were under his bedcovers with him as he read a book out loud. _I had no idea so many college students smoked weed..._

"We love it when you read to us, Gru," said the girl with black hair as she squeezed his bicep. He grinned foolishly and went back to his copy of _The Teachings of Don Juan_.

"It'll be cool if there's some violence in it," said the blond girl. She cuddled closer to Gru.

But the brunette girl on the farthest side of the bed wasn't having it. She adjusted her glasses and said, "If you knew anything about the book, _blondie_, you'd know that it's an anthropological piece with a lot of philosophy in it as well. So your desire for there to be violence most likely won't be met in the way you think it will be."

"Shut-up!"

"No, you shut-up!"

"Girls, girls," Gru groaned, "If you keep this up, I'm going to have to stop with the reading."

Across the room Illia took a hit from the joint and rolled her eyes at the image of Gru reading to a bunch of girls who were supposed to be grown.

Nevertheless, Gru sat cuddled in between the warm covers with a look of content on his face. Today was the best day he'd had in a long time.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So sorry for the length! Sadly, I think this will be the last chapter up for a long time. While you wait, here are some references for anyone who may be lost:

_Saturday Night Fever: _A film that came out in 1977 that starred John Travolta as an amazing disco dancer. It helped make disco popular around the rest of the world. The soundtrack to the film had the single _Night Fever_ by The Bee Gees on it, which you probably know is a very popular song. Please look up John Travolta dancing if you haven't, because it's freaking amazing.

_ABBA: _Swedish pop group from the 70s. Performed the awesome song _Dancing Queen._

_Rose Royce: _Awesome R&B and disco group that performed songs like _Car Wash_, _I'm Going Down_, and _Wishing on A Star_.

_The Teachings of Don Juan_: A book my father recommended to me once that I read. I'm sure he read it when he was young and high. It's basically about an anthropologist from UCLA going out into Central American desert and learning the ways of a shaman. Crazy yet interesting stuff.

Also, if you _did_ notice what I did in the last few paragraphs…then you realize how crazy of a person I am, haha.

Ciao!


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